Legend Of Termina
by Paranoid of Sound
Summary: The mask was nothing but shards, broken and useless. Majora is back, and he's out for revenge upon Termina. Perhaps a little farmer can change that..
1. The Resurrection

This would be my first fanfic, so be nice and review. -begs-

Disclaimer and such: Do not own Zelda, or any of it's characters. Only thing that belongs to me is Majora's new form.

--

He knew the second he responded to that cry for help that his life would swiftly change. He was like a record that had been unexpectedly swapped for another…or a toy replaced by an upgraded replica.

The mask had become simply shards of colorful clay, nothing more than broken pieces. They were about as useless as any other broken object in Termina. A broken vase was more than likely worth just the same.

His attention was caught on a small, frail body, lying injured, yelping, and wailing into the sands for help, near death at Great Bay Coast. The boy didn't appear to be anywhere from this world, nor from Hyrule, his silver hair clashing violently against the once again murky waters of the ocean.

Majora was now nothing but an essence of a being, not fully a soul, nor a body, but simply an aura watching, lurking over Termina's people. But this child…this pointed eared boy, the one with the silver hair and pink eyes…

He would use that as his new body…

The previous threat upon Termina lowered himself to the lemon colored sand, falling in drops of colored rain. Purple, yellow, red…rainbows of colors cascaded from the sky in droplets until they formed a large, messy puddle. Like a painter's pallet…used and murky, though still full of life and color.

The mess of colors formed itself into a sticky fluid, swiftly moving itself toward the bleeding child on the sand.

The silver-haired being gasped as the cold sensation engulfed his body, reforming and remerging it into something more suitable for an all-powerful being. Painful screams and shouts for help emerging from the now purple-coated creature.

The thing it had changed into was now a tall, lanky built male. The same silver hair and pink eyes, his skin fair with notable markings, all purple in color, disregarding the fact that he wore the same clothing as a Skull Kid, refusing to allow that…puppet…that thing…back into his mind…

Oh how he had abused his power…using him for simple tricks…and games…he truly misunderstood how to use Majora…His frustration with that child would end as soon as it had begun. He would be his first target.

He had…lungs…a heart beat. It was all horribly foreign to him. Not to mention that now, he was a human-like creature, which meant that he needed some form of nourishment… Although having a body allowed him to use his magic at will, and enabled him to move around, it meant that he also had some disgusting fallbacks. These would include the emotions that he now bared, as well as his hunger and thirst.

Emotions he had always loathed. Watching the people of Termina fall victim to them like flies…it was all a disgusting act of human feelings. Love, sadness, loneliness. All of them had consumed someone at least one point in their life, always bickering with the mind and begging it to think otherwise, to concentrate on other thoughts.

With this body, however, one certain thought kept entering his mind, and it was the most sickening he could have ever imagined. He felt…affections, a longing for some female creature. Though these feelings were not his own, they were still a filthy burden that he planned to rip from the body he had stolen.

He had quickly healed the wounds on the side of the puppet he was currently using. A hollow shell now, the soul completely shattered and engulfed by Majora, though no matter how much he had struggled and formed the body around on the inside, those slimy, strange feelings that he had refused to leave. The body was fighting back against Majora, using the thing he hated the most…

The silver-haired demon placed his hands near his collarbone, concentrating fully on the small murmur of a spell he was set to casting.

"Hah!" His voice seemed so frail and delicate compared to how it used to be as he exclaimed, ignoring this thought, he glanced down at the burning feeling on his chest.

A replica of the mask had formed, pulled down around his neck, tied tight with a thin string, although lifeless and just about as useless as a blade of grass. While a human body was great…he would have much rather returned to his normal form…having such a weak body structure was a rather sickening feeling.

Rustling in the grass…how cliché for a story to go with. A small Deku Baba sat, pale tongue flicking out against it's purple body, followed by the rabid amount of saliva that nearly every one of it's kind seemed to seep.

"…Such annoying creatures…" He pulled the mask up over his face, wincing at the feeling of the still warm clay. Maybe he'd get lucky and have it melt onto his face…as a matter of fact, it didn't sound like too bad of an idea, until the purple ball of spit threw itself at the magical creature, latching onto his arm.

He glared down pointlessly at the plant, tempted to ram it, and his arm, into a nearby tree. "Filthy vermin…" The Deku Baba then immediately released his arm, the feeling of being compressed and squished into a small form frightening the poor thing into a heart attack.

A small, although bright grin found itself on the boy's features as Clock Town's lights slowly lit one by one. The sky was turning into a blanket of purple and orange, and thus the people of Termina were preparing for nightfall…

Maybe, if he was lucky enough, he would find that mask salesman again…he always had ways of getting him out of nasty situations. After all, they had both saved the other from some form of torment or death at least once, and now it was his turn.

Before Majora even had time to simply think further on the situation, a white ball of light zipped up to his face, jabbering on so quickly that he couldn't even bother to grasp the concept of what it was saying. Slowly staggering up after it was a purple one, much smaller, and far frailer. The pink, fleshy body of a fairy obviously noticeable on both…wonderful, those annoying fairies…

The white one rightfully deserved a smack across the square, which she soon received after Majora pulled his mask down. He never did like fairies much…always so bubbly and ecstatic about every single bit of information they gathered…it was annoying in the least. Not only did he have the urge to step on them, but he surely came across the thought of banishing them to the moon and forbidding their return.

"Tatl. Shut up," was about all the pale demon could mutter out between her screeching. She seemed to go on for ages without stopping, and that one little demand allowed him perhaps five seconds of silence.

"No!"

The smaller, purple one behind it piped up, "…Sis…Maybe we should—"

"I said no!"

As if their bickering wasn't enough, Majora was earning a headache from the entire day. He hadn't eaten for some-number of years, and apparently the creature's body hadn't eaten for at least a month. Moronic thing it was.

The headache only grew worse as the seconds dragged on, and on top of that, Majora was now wavering back and forth, attempting to keep balance.

Shortly after this little headache followed a room of inky blackness, and a rather hard _thump_ against the brick flooring.

--

The feeling swelled over him like a disease, his body, and his mind were now aching with a sensation he had never felt before. Physical and mental weakness, exhaustion. He was tired, and with his human body, he could do nothing to prevent it.

It baffled him how the used shell refused anything he asked and went against his wishes, demanding more rest while Majora ushered it awake.

Upon doing this, Majora seemed to have jinxed the entire situation, and remained unconscious, refusing to wake up the next day, or even the next week.

"I don't know what else we can do for him…" His eyes flickered open and he forced himself to sit up, a raging headache pounding with each heart beat. The second he opened his mouth to speak, a warm sensation surrounded him.

A tall, red headed girl was holding the demon in an embrace, and immediately his human emotions took over and his face grew hot.

The girl was soon shoved away, landing swiftly on the ground. According to the thoughts surrounding the girl, the boy whom Majora was residing in thought of her as far more than a friend…he immediately knew that it would turn out bad from there on.

"…You…seem different." He simply rolled his eyes and slumped back down onto the rectangular object.

Speaking of which, how on earth did he even get there? He most certainly wasn't in Clock Town from the appearance…

"…Where is this?" His voice cracked and he quickly coughed to cover it up. He needed food and water desperately, even if his body was still waterlogged from whatever that child had done to get caught in the ocean, he wanted water.

The red haired girl quickly moved herself to gather up a bottle, leaving the room only to return seconds later with it filled up. "We don't have anything but milk right now...Mister…ah…I…Never got your name. I've only seen you once or twice around our ranch…"

Once or twice? Then why were the emotions swirling around this girl so strongly fixated on – as much as he hated to say it – love?

He hated her already.

Pale blue eyes shone up at the demon, forcing him to cringe, "You've never really been around Termina, have you?"

"No."

"You're not talkative either..." She stuck her bottom lip out in a pout, folding her arms like a child would. Majora was waiting for her to toss herself upon the floor and begin kicking and screaming. Children were really annoying things…

His thoughts were immediately shut off by a loud crowing from under the floorboards. Was the house two stories? Either way, the large startled jump had caused the red-head to go into a fit of laughter and sputter out something along the lines of explaining what it was.

"Y-You really…haven't heard of…cuccos before?" Her speech was cut into particles, laughing every other word and attempting to catch her breath.

"I can't believe you know so little…" She turned and looked around the placid creature, examining his every feature as if he was a figurine on display. "Well, either way, you need to eat! I'll go and cook something up, alright?"

--

It was nearly midday by the time the girl had returned to the room, her excuse was that she was called down for these creatures called 'cows', and 'horses'. Majora paid no mind and simply snatched the bowl of soup from her hands. "…What is it?"

"It's called 'food'." Her sarcasm was getting old, and fast. "Now eat it."

Majora poked at the thing quietly, glaring at it as it left a burning liquid on his finger. "You're not supposed to play with it!" This earned the girl sharp daggers, all of which firing from the boy's disgusted look.

He'd never needed any form of nourishment, and it was all very strange to him. "How can you not know what--..Nevermind," she snatched a spoonful from his bowl and forced it in his mouth, "now swallow." He shook his head, reluctant and overly confused.

"…If you don't, so help me, I'll feed you to the cuccos as you sleep!" His reaction was slow, although her threat was minor, it had worked. Although not so much out of fear, since no one in their right mind would be frightened of such a threat. It was more so out of fear that the shell he was using would die and rot on him instead of working like it should.

And he had to admit. Although it had been the first thing he ever tried, it was, quite simply, the damn best thing he had ever tasted.

"There you go…" Her features soon found a smile, a proud although gentle one, "Papa taught me how to make it before he left." Before he even had time to ask, the girl's face had twisted into a saddened expression, and he didn't bother asking. Nor did he care.

She took the bowl and set it aside, leaving it on an end table next to the bed.

"Right. Anyway, when can I leave?" This received a shocked expression from the farmer, and immediately she opened her mouth to protest.

"I'm not staying here forever, girl, and now let m—" She shot up and flipped her hair back in quit simply the scariest display Majora had ever seen.

"My NAME, is Cremia!"

He raised an eyebrow, a small smirk finding it's way to him. "Well then, _Cremia_," a mocking tone, mimicking her voice emitted from Majora, "I have to leave. I believe there's something I need to do."

"But…you can't…"

"And why not?"

"We need help around the ranch—"

"No." He blurted this rather obnoxiously, folding his arms and turning his head away.

"But it's the least you could do!"

Her hands were now balled into fists, gripping the apron of her dress tightly in a frustrated manner.

"…What do you mean?" His face was once again confused. The term of kindness, and repaying someone was far from his vocabulary. Hell, he didn't even know why she was helping him!

He hadn't had these…emotions…these burdening feelings before. Perhaps once, far back when the tribe was still alive, but for those thousands of years…nothing. This human body, that fleshy counterpart that he was encased in. It seemed to be so fragile, so gentle and small, as if it could snap at any moment. He was shocked that his magic wasn't pouring out of the boy's frame.

Perhaps he could ask someone later.

For now he needed to get that girl off his back.


	2. A Helping Hand

Thank you to Skull Fairy Zombie for being my first reviewer! -grovels-

--

"I'm not interested."

"Well, I don't really care. Now go and get the wagon ready."

Majora groaned and gathered up the remainder of milk Cremia had put into containers for the bar, throwing them all onto the small wagon as quickly - and although reluctantly - as gently as he could.

"Alrighty! Looks like we're ready to go then!" She jolted to the stable, pulling out a well-built, pure white horse. The poor creature was then attached to the wagon and given a set of reigns. "By the way, you still haven't given me your name…"

He rolled his eyes and sputtered out a few 'I hate yous', "Majora."

She stared at him for what seemed like hours, a confused and almost worried expression slapped across her face. "…Why does that sound so familiar?" He shrugged and pointed to the reigns, ushering her to get the hell out of the ranch. He needed air that didn't smell of…well...cow.

Cremia then lashed the reigns down upon the poor horse, causing it to trot forward a little quicker than she would have liked. And this showed by a quick tumble back into Majora. "Get. Off. Of. Me." Her face flushed a pale pink from embarrassment as she crawled off the demon and continued her merry little way out of the ranch.

But of course, like all inconvenient and annoying things, the gate to the road was shut. She sighed, sounding rather tired and exhausted from the first few hours of work they had done, and shuffled herself off of the wagon. Before she could even reach the gate, it swung open rather violently.

Majora was growing impatient.

"Huh. Well I'll be darned." She crawled back onto the wooden object, positioning herself upon a small ledge that sat above the horse.

"Can you hurry?"

"Oh stop being such a whiner!" She moved the horse forward once more, trotting a little bit faster with each coming contact of the reigns.

By now Majora was more than irritated. Ready to toss the girl off the wheeled thing and lift it to Clock Town. That certainly sounded like a better idea. Why he wasn't just running from the wagon baffled him in the least. It was the new body he was in, it beckoned him to stay no matter how many times his mind begged otherwise.

"Huh, you're really not very talkative at all unless you're whining, you know that?"

His eyes fell down to the wooden boards, outlining the small knots in the wood with his finger. "Refrain from speaking." He glanced up at her slightly offended face and quickly threw up added words, "…I have a headache."

--

Before they even reached Clock Town, the little white-haired demon was fast asleep. His body turning at every bump along the way.

Cremia had even been tempted to stop and turn around, to take him home and put him to bed, but she protested otherwise in her mind. She'd buy him an inn room when they got there.

--

Jarred out of his sleep by an unexpected touch, Majora quickly jolted awake, nearly hitting his head on the wall of the wagon.

"Oh, sorry…We're here." She paused and smiled at the demon before her, holding a hand out to him in order to help him off the wooden object with wheels. The swiftness of the soggy, moldy colours in the sky forced a pointed grin upon his features. So it was going to rain...That'd mean they would have to stay in Clock Town for the rest of the day. And hopefully night.

A few clear droplets formed in midair and clung to the side of Majora's cheek, causing him to blink in confusion. He hadn't ever experienced rain first hand...it was a strange feeling, moist and cold, although comforting in the least.

"So, can ya help me unload the milk to the bar? It's only a few stairs up and we should be right in front of it, so you don't hafta walk too far..!" She reached past the demon boy and gathered up two cases of milk, giving the same soft smile as usual.

It took him a good three minutes to actually realize what she wished for him to do, turning around after watching her return to gather up another case. She then turned around and walked back to the bar a second time…

His jaw ran slack in confusion, '_Why doesn't she just...'port them there?'_ He sighed, gently tapping each case once before they seemed to squish into a two dimensional objects, quickly zipping upward before eventually disappearing.

A loud yelp could easily be heard from inside the building, Cremia staring at the door from outside. "…Huh. You alright in there Mr. Barten?" She pushed the door open to find a large stack of milk set on the stage before turning and glancing back at Majora. "Ah—I…I'll be right back…"

Her voice was a low whisper, although holding a fairly angry tone to it, "How did you—! I swear if you did anything to—"

"You looked like you were tired." He stated bluntly. He shrugged and hopped off the wagon, arms up with his hands resting behind his head as he moved toward Stock Pot Inn. "Anyway," He raised one hand and held it in mid-air in a wave, "I refuse to do any more of your pathetic human work."

Cremia stared, eyes wide and mouth opening and closing like a fish. "Wait--!" She paused and mumbled to herself quietly, "You...don't have any rupees..."


End file.
